Superman
by Maudlin Mush
Summary: A series of rescues keep Station 51 on their toes. Blatant use of coffee as comic relief and the breaking of Rule #1 for a serious side.
1. Chapter 1

**Superman **

**by MM**

disclaimer: The characters of Emergency do not belong to me. Brewing coffee is a serious business, don't try it at home. As always I'll help 'em up, dust them off, give 'em a smooch and send them back when I'm done.

rating: K+

Chapter 1: In which we learn the importance of being to work on time.

"Good morning, good morning, good morning!" a cheerful John Gage strode into the kitchen, in uniform, before role call. Mike looked up with a small grin. Looks like he won the bet this morning. Hank had been positive the paramedic would be last in. He happily thought about what type of blended treat he'd send the Cap in for at the coffee house.

"Morning, Johnny," Mike greeted him. "Running early this morning?"

"Figured if I didn't start getting in here on time I'd have latrine duty permanently," he joked as he poured a cup of well-crafted coffee into his mug. "Besides, I know who makes the first pot now! Not gonna miss the chance at a good cup of coffee."

"As opposed to a less palatable brew?" Mike teased. His crew mate smiled as he breathed in the aroma then took a sip."

"ahhhh! Perfect as always, Mike!" he declared. Mike smirked. No way would he let Hank know his coffee was one of the main reasons why Johnny was working on being early. At least until he got a couple more cups of decadent ice-blended coffees out of the captain.

"Well, Gage, made it in on time today," a disappointed Hank came into the kitchen to secure his own cup of java.

"Thought I should set a good example for Chet," he replied with an innocent smile. The two men sat down and joined the engineer in reading the paper. It was good to slip into the shift unhurried.

Roy and Marco came in together, both heading for the urn. Roy then sat down next to his partner.

"So, did ya get it?" the older paramedic asked. John folded the paper and nodded.

"Yes, I sure did! If we have time later I'll get it out of the Rover and I'll start showing you what to do," he said. This drew everyone else's attention.

"Get what?" Marco asked.

"And can you bring it into a fire house?" Hank asked skeptically. Mike just sat up a little straighter and waited.

"Of course I can bring it into a a fire house!" Johnny retorted.

"He's teaching me how to tie lanyards," Roy said. "He's gonna help me with Chris's scout troop over the weekend and one of the skills is lanyards."

"I had to practice, myself," John admitted. "It's been years since I learned how to make 'em." Mike looked interested.

"Hey, I did that in scouting," he said. "Think you could refresh my memory? Do you have any extra lacing?" Gage's grin grew.

" 'Course I do, Mike," he said. "Couple different colors as well."

"Now that the craft circle is complete," Hank drawled, "I think it's time to get this shift on the road. Roll call, gentlemen!" Stretching, Mike gathered up the papers and folded them neatly while Johnny rinsed out their mugs. Slugging back the last tasty mouthful Cap handed his to the paramedic with a 'thanks'.

With hats on and in a neat row the four firemen waited for Cap to read any morning notices. And wondered when Chet would make his appearance. They hadn't long to wait as a car screeched into the parking lot and Chester B came rushing in tucking in his work shirt. A quick stop at the cupboard yielded his dress hat.

"Why Mr. Kelly," Hank said with out a smile, "how good of you to volunteer for latrine... again." *And lost me a cup of iced coffee!* he grumbled to himself. "Lopez, you've got the dorms. Mike, Johnny, hoses. Roy, you'll do the cooking." He stopped and glanced at his clipboard.

"Headquarters sent down a memo regarding equipment being left behind," Hank paraphrased. "We haven't had any missing items, but a few other stations have. They want us to be extra observant we don't lose anything." There was general agreement; if anything these men watched out for their things; no one wanted to come up short on a vital piece of equipment during a fire or rescue!

"That's about it. Let's get chores done then Roy, you and Johnny can drive over to Rampart to resupply and stop at the market," the captain directed.

Johnny grinned as he joined Mike. "Cool, B shift already hung out the hoses! We just need to lay a couple back on the engine." The engineer smirked. It was a great assignment.

"I'll make another pot of coffee after we're done," he promised.

Roy ran a morning check on the squad before thinking about cooking. He didn't know what he wanted to make; maybe Johnny would have an idea that didn't include hotdogs or hamburgers. He rolled his eyes at the thought as Kel Brackett's voice ascertained they were transmitting clearly. When he finished he went into the kitchen and found Mike pouring out fresh coffee for himself and Johnny. He waggled the pot at Roy who promptly agreed.

"So, any suggestions for dinner?" he asked the two men.

"Haven't had meatloaf for awhile," Johnny said. "And the oven's been fixed so we can use the automatic on/off if we get caught on a run."

"Yeah, you did make a pretty good meatloaf," Mike said. "And I'll make the gravy for you if you want." Roy smiled. Of course he wanted the quiet man's expertise! He grabbed the grocery list and pencil and began adding to the list.

"What about using a can of tomato sauce this time instead of ketchup?" he suggested. "That's what Joanne uses."

"Sounds good to me," John agreed. "You could just call her and ask her what she puts into it." This was a good idea and Roy used the pay phone. Soon he had a list and simple directions. All he needed to do was get some frozen corn and green beans to go with the mashed potatoes and he'd be set!

Of course, no morning was entirely calm and the station was called out to a moving vehicle accident involving a moving van and cars on the 405. CHP was on the scene and one of the officers met the paramedics.

"The guy in the moving van is ok, just shook up," officer Davis began, "I think the guy in the red jeep that caused the crash is dead. The woman in the tan olds cutlass has a head wound at least, but she's awake and aware. The couple in the last car have multiple injuries."

"Thanks!" Roy responded. "Johnny, why don't you go check out the jeep driver first and then get over to the woman in the olds and I'll get the last car."

"I'll have Cap call out for another squad," the younger paramedic said as he nodded his agreement. Looking over at the wrecks, they saw Marco pulling battery cables as Chet was pulling out an inch and a half to wash down the fuel.

Gage jogged over to the captain, putting in his request, then moved to the jeep. Davis had been correct, the man was most definitely dead. He tossed a yellow tarp over the body. Then he moved back to the olds.

The first thing he noticed she had a sweatshirt pressed to her head; next he noticed she was talking on a phone. He briefly wondered why a person driving such a mom and pop car would have a phone in it. He thought only Jags and Rolls had them. Then he noted the door was partially opened and he yanked hard.

"Ok, Mom, thanks," she was saying. "Yeah, love you too!" then she pushed a button and tossed the handset aside, giving the paramedic a sheepish grin.

"Sorry 'bout that," she said. "Had to make sure my son was taken care of since I doubt I'll be able to pick him up this afternoon."

"What makes you think you won't be able to get him?" Johnny asked with his trademark crooked grin. "Besides the car being out of commission."

"Well, this for one," she flashed him the large gash on her forehead and into her scalp. "Gonna get a funny haircut at least."

"Ouch," he said as he helped put the sweatshirt back.

"Then the steering wheel has done a number to my gut," she gave another sheepish grin. "Is this a good time to tell you I had hernia surgery there a year back and then additional surgery to remove a fluid-filled seroma two months ago?"

"Uh, yeah, it's a good time," he took her wrist and counted. All things considered a hundred wasn't too bad. He gently palpitated her stomach.

"Sorry, I know it's hard to get a good feel with the fat in the way," she said apologetically.

"No, no, it's not a problem," Gage returned. "I'm Johnny Gage, I'm just gonna get my equipment and see about getting you out."

"Great. I'm Rose Welner," she responded. "I'll just hang out here for the time being." He chuckled. It was nice to have a patient who wasn't panicked. He figured she was probably a bit frightened, but hid it well. Patting her shoulder he headed back to the squad.

"What do you got?" Roy asked as he was pulling boxes out of the compartments.

"Head laceration, possible internal injuries," he said briefly.

"Well, 36 can take care of the other car, two broken legs, maybe cracked ribs on the driver," the older paramedic said. "I'll give you a hand."

"Grab the shock pants just in case," Johnny directed as he hefted two boxes and then latched onto the O2. Together they went back to the car.

"Hey, Rose, taking a nap?" Gage asked with some concern when he saw eyes closed. They popped open.

"Nope, just thought I'd catch up on my beauty sleep," she said with a slightly pained smile. Both men could see she was now sweating. "Hate to mention this, but I think my left leg is caught on something. I can more the right, but the other is jammed."

"No problem!" Johnny said as cheerfully as possible. "This is my partner, Roy Desoto. He's going to give us a hand." The blonde paramedic smiled.

"I'll get the jaws," Roy said. He hurried back to the squad as Gage took her blood pressure. 120 over 65. Not the best, but he'd take it. Respiration was even and slow, pulse was still up.

"You nervous?" he asked, mostly to keep her awake and oriented.

"Me? Not really," she carefully pushed her hair back. "Pain I can deal with. It's being stuck and knowing you poor men are going to have to heft me out of here is bothersome." Again, that apologetic smile.

"Don't worry about that," he said. "Let me check your eyes." Both reacted, although a bit sluggishly. He took another look at her forehead and noted the slight swelling. He turned and set up the biophone.

"Rampart, this is squad 51," he began. Immediately he got a response.

"51, this is Rampart," Kel Brackett picked up the line.

"Rampart, we have a female victim, approximately 30," he glanced over at Rose who smiled.

"Thanks, 32, actually," she reported and he relayed the age again. He gave the vitals, laceration details and explained the trauma to her stomach.

"51, who was her surgeon for her procedures?" Brackett asked.

"John Ryan, he's over at the old Southside Medical Center," she said and listened as the information was relayed.

"Dix, get on the phone to Southside and see if you can get Dr. John Ryan. He's the head of trauma," the nurse nodded and moved to the counter. He ordered an IV with a little ms to take the edge off the pain. The head wound didn't sound too serious.

In the meantime, Roy returned with Chet, Marco and the jaws. The three men set up the chains and covered their patient with a tarp. Johnny stayed with her while the steering shaft was hoisted back. As the glass crunched and the metal groaned she leaned against the paramedic.

"It sounds a lot worse than it is," he said as he allowed her to take comfort.

"You sure?" she said through gritted teeth. Then she discovered she could finally move her left leg. And it wasn't happy about it.

" 'k, it's free," she ground out. "And broken, I think." He could hear the pain in her voice and put his free arm around her in support. The grinding noises stopped and Roy pulled back the tarp.

"Enough?" he asked tersely.

"Yeah, let's get Rose out of here," Johnny replied. They carefully moved her towards the door, bringing her legs up and out. Given the small noises she was making all the men knew she was hurting.

"You know, you can scream," Chet offered. "Gage, here, can sleep through sirens."

"Yeah?" she asked breathlessly. "I'm not.... much... of a.... screamer." Looking at her leg Chet figured she should be. They lay her on the asphalt on the side of the freeway and let the paramedics get into gear. Vitals were retaken, leg splinted, stomach prodded. Her eyes fell to half-mast.

"You never told me what you do for a living, Rose," Johnny kept up the chatter as he established the IV and gave her a small dose of morphine.

"Ah... Teacher... Little kids like 7 and 8 year olds," she struggled to get that out.

"What about your husband?" Roy asked as cleaned the blood off her face and put a pressure bandage on the laceration.

"Died last month, drunk driver," she eeked out as the water stung a bit. The partners looked at one another. Not a good thing to discuss.

"Don't worry about it, guys," the morphine had started its magic and she was able to string longer sentences together. "Life just happens."

"You said you had a son," Gage tried a new tack as he looked around for an ambulance. It seemed 36 had taken the first two.

"Yeah, he's 16. Good kid, although I am prejudice," she remarked with a smile. In the distance they could hear a siren approaching. She was still sweating and her pressure had dropped somewhat. She needed to get in now.

"I'll ride with her," Gage said as the attendants wheeled the gurney close. With minimum effort they loaded her up and sent the ambulance on its way.

John stayed a little longer than needed to be sure Rose was being taken care of. A strange doctor had met them at the ambulance bay and proceeded to retake vitals and order tests. It wasn't until she'd made a snide comment about having a rottweiler for a physician that he stopped and smiled at her and countered she should be glad he wasn't a pit bull.

After resupplying the paramedics stopped by the market and picked up dinner fixings. They'd decided sandwiches and fruit was good enough for lunch. Their crew mates were interested in lunch when they arrived and quickly attacked the loaf of bread and cold cuts.

The engined toned out for a trash fire at a nearby park. With a loud groan Chet dropped the bread and followed Marco out. Looking at all the sandwiches that were not quite complete Johnny approached the first one and finished fixing it the way Mike liked his. This was wrapped, marked and put in the fridge. He continued on his way putting everyone else's lunch together and marking them. He ran a damp cloth over all the surfaces that had crumbs on them before going to make his own sandwich.

"Here, Johnny," Roy held out a plate with a perfect Johnny-sandwich on it, complete with every type of cheese and meat available. He grinned his thanks and sat down next to his pal.

________________________________


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Who knew jungle gyms were tricky?

"You'd think they'd know better than dumping their bar-b-cues into the trash can!" Chet complained as he washed his hands in the bathroom.

"I'd at least hope they'd dump the ice and water from their cooler on top of it instead of walking away!" Marco added. They hurried into the kitchen hoping to get their lunch put together when the tones sounded again.

"Engine 36, Squad 51, unknown type rescue, Jefferson Park," the dispatcher stated. "Cross streets, Madison and Orange. Time out, 14:10."

"Squad 51, KMG 365," Captain Stanley replied. He handed the paper to Roy.

"Hey, Chet," Johnny called, "sandwiches are in the fridge!" he jumped into the squad and pulled on his helmet. The paper was checked and put away.

"Left on Orange," Gage pointed as he braced himself against the dash board. He always felt Roy wanted to be a race car driver as a child. "Two blocks on the right."

As they approached the park they slowed down and began scanning for some indication where they needed to go. Finally they spied a police officer waving them over.

"Hey, Vince!," Roy greeted him.

"Roy, Johnny," he nodded. "You're gonna like this one." He waved them up the service road towards the playground area. Engine 36 was already there, the crew looking up at the top of an intricate jungle gym. The paramedics parked and started for their equipment while glancing up.

"How did he manage that?" Gage muttered as he dragged the drug box out.

"Better question is, how are we gonna get him down?" Desoto replied as he pulled out the biophone and O2. They walked over to the rest of the crew.

"I think the walker is a nice touch," the fire captain said to his engineer. "Hi Johnny, Roy," he greeted them.

"I guess I'll just climb up and check him out," Gage set down his helmet and drug box and approached the jungle gym.

"Hey, mister," a child pulled on his arm. "You tell him his turn is up! We all counted and he has to get down!"

"I'll see what I can do," Gage promised as he grabbed onto the bars and pulled himself up. Soon he eased himself next to the older man who was clinging both to the structure and his aluminum walker.

"Hi, I'm Johnny Gage," he announced himself. "What's your name?"

"Ah, Paul, Paul Lewis," the man managed. "My grandson and wife kind of dared me to climb on up here, but I can't figure how to get down."

"I can see it's a problem, Paul," Gage allowed. "Maybe if my partner comes up we can guide you down to the ground. Where is your wife?"

"Woman with the camera," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Say cheese." The paramedic worked to quell a laugh, settling for a strangled chuckle.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I guess she thinks you're alright." Paul nodded with a deep sigh. "Roy! I think we can help Paul down." Soon the blonde paramedic was by Jim's other side.

"Why the walker?" Gage had to ask.

"Actually, it gave me something to pull up on. I was standing up on top before I decided it was not the smartest thing to do," the man admitted shamed-faced.

"You know, sir, I think if your wife got that picture you'll be alright!" Johnny said with a grin. Paul smiled for the first time.

"You know, I think you're right!" he agreed.

Working in tandem the paramedics first removed the walker and tossed it down to the waiting crew below. Next they helped Paul move step by step down the jungle gym until he was finally on the ground. Putting their arms around his waist, two of the fire men helped him walk over to the grass so he could be checked out.

"Thanks mister!" the child called as he clambered up the structure. As they took vitals Paul's wife and grandson came over. The boy happily hugged the older man.

"That was so cool, Pop pop." he said. "I could never stand up like you did!"

"I'm not so sure I could stand up, either!" he admitted to his grandson. Blood pressure, pulse and respiration were checked and called in to Rampart. As there seemed to be no actual problems, Early suggested the patient rest and take aspirin if his muscles hurt later. As always, he urged him to go to his own physician for a checkup. As Paul signed the waiver, Roy grinned.

"Ma'am, you'll have to send us a copy of Paul on top of the gym," he requested and held out one of his business cards from the station.

"I know I got some good ones!" she said. "I'll mail one to you soon, Mr. Desoto." As they packed up Gage turned to his partner.

"I'm certainly glad 36 was out with us!" he said, " 'cause the guys back at the station will never believe us!"

"Why did you think I asked for a picture?" Roy replied.

"Smart man," Johnny grunted.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: In which Chet makes coffee and Mike plays catch.

When they arrived back they found Marco and Chet in the kitchen arguing over making coffee. Mike hid behind the business section. He'd already made two pots and figured it was someone else's turn.

Although Marco certainly didn't want Chet to make it! Especially with a handful of crushed eggshells to mix into the grounds.

"Look, man, I'm sure you have to at least rinse the shells before you use them!" he argued.

"But this is how I remember my grandpop doing it!" Chet argued back. Johnny grabbed a soda out of the fridge and two glasses. He held up the can and Roy nodded in agreement.

"So, how long has this been going on?" Roy asked as he sat next to the engineer and snagged the sports section.

"Half hour," Mike replied. "Cap closed his door." That was a bit strange; Cap never closed that door unless something serious was going on.

"Hey, Gage," Marco stopped and looked over at the lanky paramedic as he divvied up the cola. "Thanks for taking care of our lunch!"

"No problem," he replied as he took a long sip of the iced liquid. The argument continued. John pulled over the front section and looked at the headlines.

"Looks like China's out of the Olympics this summer," he said as he read the first couple of paragraphs.

"Who cares," Chet weighed in as he took a break from arguing with Marco. "I said I'd make the coffee, and I'm gonna make the coffee!"

"Ok, Ok, go ahead," Marco threw his hands up. "I'm not gonna drink it unless you rinse off those shells!"

"Guess I'd better get the meatloaf together," Roy decided and started setting up on the counter.

A few minutes later Cap opened his door and stuck his head out. "Who's cooking the eggs?" he asked. Mike just hunkered down behind the paper. Figuring it was a good idea, Johnny joined him.

"Chet?" a warning voice.

"Yeah, Cap?" an innocent return. "Oh, that's just the shells in the grounds. It makes a smoother cup of coffee." Shaking his head Hank opened the windows in the kitchen area.

"John, Dixie called," Stanley said as he passed the table towards his office. "The women you brought in this morning? She was in surgery over 4 hours. Said she was in critical condition."

"Damn, she didn't seem that bad when we left her," he shook his head. "Guess I'll check on her later."

"Hey, buddy, remember the number one rule!" Roy lectured elbows deep mixing meatloaf.

"You're assuming he can count that high," Chet heckled.

"We're not talking about your IQ score, Chester B," John shot back. Mike surreptitiously touched his shoulder in commiseration. He knew Johnny tended to worry about his patients. It also served to calm the younger man down and he ignored the rest of Chet's barbs.

Roy managed to get the loaf shaped and put in a pan before they were toned out again. He slid the meat into the oven and quickly set the timer and temperature. At least he didn't have to be here to start it!

"Station 51, Station 36, truck accident at the docks," the dispatcher relayed address and cross street.

"Station 51, KMG 365," Hank secured the papers and passed one to Johnny on the way to the engine. Soon they were well on their way to the docks at the end of the 710 freeway.

They could see the smoke before they got there. It seemed two tanker rigs had collided and even a slow-moving truck could do a lot of damage to the side of a tank. Hoses were pulled out immediately as Hank called in a request for a foam truck. The two drivers had already been pulled out by some nearby workers so Roy and Johnny were able to start in treating one driver while 36 took the other. Neither man was actually hurt, but were mostly shook up.

"Hey, my rig was pretty much empty," the one trucker said. "But the fumes will explode if they get too hot." Roy immediately called Hank over to pass on the information. The strategy changed and the most of the hoses were turned towards the uninvolved tanker to keep any flames away. 36 kept their two inch on the flames holding them back until the foam truck arrived.

Chet and Marco moved in closer, pouring the water over the tank and cab. They could see steam starting to push out of a seam.

"IT'S GONNA BLOW!" Chet yelled and all the firemen scattered. He managed to throw himself down as the blast forced its way out of the weakened seam. The force picked up Marco and he found himself flying in the air towards the engine and a very surprised Mike Stoker. Spreading his legs slightly he braced himself for impact.

Johnny and Roy watched in horror as their crew mate flew and struck the engineer, knocking him back into the gauges. The younger paramedic was on his feet and running before anyone else could react. He gently untangled his friends and began assessing them for injuries.

Roy joined his partner once he transferred his patient to Dwyer. Marco was dazed and Mike was unconscious.

"Let me get to the controls," Hank moved between them to start shutting down the hoses.

"I got the boxes," Chet dropped the drug box and biophone off before running back for the O2.

"Pass a pressure bandage," Gage requested as he looked over a gash to the back of Stoker's head. "And a c-collar." He noted respiration and pulse rate while he waited for the BP cuff. Marco was awake, but disoriented. Roy couldn't find any apparent physical injuries, but figured the concussive blast possibly did some internal damage.

He called into Rampart and began relaying information. As soon as he finished the phone was passed over to Johnny for Stoker's info. Both men ended up on backboards with IVs and put into ambulances.

Along the ride in Mike regained consciousness. He was a bit hazy about what had happened, but claimed that Marco was flying like Superman through the air and knocked him over. Both men and ambulance attendant had a good laugh.

Once in ER Gage sought out Dixie.

"How's Rose Welner doing?" he asked quietly, hoping not to get the lecture.

"Still in the CCU," Dixie said. "Hasn't woken up from surgery. Hey, if you're going up to check would you tell Kel we really need him down here?"

"Sure, Dix," he grinned, knowing she was covering his visit. He rode the elevator up two floors and found the correct bed. Both Brackett and the trauma doctor, Dr. Ryan, were there, going over the latest panels and speaking softly when he walked up.

"Hey, Dr. Brackett?" he said quietly, "Dixie said you're needed down in ER."

"Why didn't she call?" he queried.

"I was just going to check up on Ms. Welner," he admitted. And was immediately chastised about breaking rule number one before Brackett turned and left for his primary domain. Ryan waited until the white coat disappeared into the elevator.

"I've broken rule number one," he admitted to the paramedic. "I'm the head of trauma, considered one of the best in the field, I'm hard-nosed and overly demanding and critical. But I have broken the rule." He smiled ruefully.

"How do you handle it?" Johnny asked. "I mean, in your specialty you have a higher mortality rate."

"A little bit dies inside me," he said quietly. "And I swear I've learned my lesson every time. Then another patient comes along, with that spark and personality and I break the damned rule again!" He glanced over at the unconscious woman. John saw his face, his concern and connected the dots.

"Her?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ryan admitted. "She just snuck under the radar and before I knew it I looked forward to her office visits. Rose is witty and intelligent. Always has something interesting to talk about."

"She sounds like a good person to know," the paramedic reasoned.

"Yes, and it pisses me off she got nailed by a stupid idiot trying to jump lanes on the freeway," the doctor grumbled.

"Any idea when she'll wake?" he asked. The doctor shook his head.

"When she's good and ready," he said with a shrug. "Well, I actually have to get back to my hospital. Thanks for getting her in so fast." He shook Johnny's hand and replaced the clipboard on the end of the bed.

"Do me a favor and wake up soon, Rose," he told her. Johnny approached the bed.

"Yeah, I want to hear more about that perfect son of yours," he added. They rode silently down the elevator. Ryan headed for the parking lot and Gage headed back to check up on his friends.

By now Cap and Chet had made it to Rampart and had joined Roy in the doctor's lounge. Johnny slipped in and grabbed a cup of coffee.

"Mike's gone to get his arm casted," Hank began, "he has a concussion but Early says it doesn't look bad. Took a few stitches on the laceration." Roy picked up the thread.

"He has some bruised ribs but that's all," he finished. "Marco has a concussion, too. He's going up to CCU for observation and some medication."

"Mike said Marco looked just like Superman flying through the air," Johnny said as he sipped coffee. That caused the other three men to laugh.

"Well, I think Mike did a superb job of catching," Hank added with a snicker. Roy checked his watch.

"Meatloaf's cooking," he commented. The door opened and a tired looking Bracket entered. Johnny went over and pulled down a mug filling it for the doctor. He received a tired thanks as the man took a small sip and sat down.

"Sorry I jumped on your earlier, Johnny," he apologized.

"It's Ok, Dr. Ryan talked with me awhile," the paramedic replied earning a look from the head of ER. Ryan was not known to have idle chats.

"How're the guys doing?" Chet broke in, touching on the important stuff.

"Well, Marco's doing OK, so far," Brackett relayed. "The meds will keep the swelling down and he's resting," he took a longer sip. "Mike's being moved into a room as we speak. The arm is only a fracture and the concussion is pretty mild. I think the ribs are going to be the most annoying problem. It'll be a bit painful to breath as you all know!" The men offered their varied agreements to the statement.

"Ms. Welner still hasn't woken up," Brackett added for Johnny. "Probably will just slip into sleep without much trouble. Took out six feet of intestine and had to do some repair to her stomach. Ryan was surprised she got to keep her spleen." Roy and Hank both cast their gazes on the silent paramedic, but only received a blank look back. Johnny relaxed in the knowledge even heads of major trauma units broke the number one rule.

"You can stop by and see them on your way out," Brackett finished and returned to his coffee. He was mildly interested in what Ryan had to say to Gage, but knew he'd never find out from either man.

____________________________________

Two weeks passed. Marco returned first followed by Mike a week later. Both were glad to be back in the saddle. A brightly-colored package sat on the table and a fresh pot of coffee courtesy of Hank was on the stove. The men wandered in and poured mugs out. The package was tossed to Marco.

Marco took one look at a navy blue shirt and a huge smile covered his face. He ran back into the dorms to change. The crew looked over at Johnny who'd brought it in, but he wasn't willing to disclose what Marco's shirt said.

When the fire man returned he opened his shirt showing the large Superman "S" emblazoned on the front of the t-shirt. Under the colorful "S", neatly printed in bright colors matching the letter, read "Super Marco to the Rescue!"

"All he needs is a red cape," Chet chortled over his coffee. Mike's face slowly broke into a grin as he opened a cupboard door and emerged with a red checkered table cloth. Even Hank burst into laughter as the wiry fireman pulled the "cape" around his shoulders and posed as though he would launch into the air.

It was good to be together again!


End file.
